Sometimes the past is better left buried "I bought the house," Butch says over the phone. Art Deats does not have to ask which one. His brother has been fixated on their childhood home deep in the swamps of lower Alabama ever since they fled the place in terror forty years ago. Has Butch lost his mind? The house is haunted. Let it rot! And then the fatal request: "I want you to come down here and help me fix it up."Butch, do not do this. Do not wake the dead.Against his better judgment, Art leav...